The Bloody Adventures of Dave And Mindy
by Ghouse89
Summary: It's the adventures of adult Dave and Mindy. Is it as a happily married couple with normal kids? F@#k no! It's more gore, swearing and violence as they teach their kids their craft while they keep screwing the crime underworld up, one corpse at a time.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello ya'll! I didn't want to write a kick-ass fanfic but one of my friends said she would like me to write one where Mindy and Dave are together in the future. I didn't want to humor her initially, really, but decided to do it anyway. Fair warning: it might not be everyone's cup of tea. There will be lots of swearing, violence and sex. Just thought that you should know. Plus it's kind of short and it's in Mindy's point of view. I might just add a second chapter for the sake of adding one. Enjoy._

**Chapter one**

"Mommy, c'mon! I want a story!"

My little girl's squealing stopped me right in my tracks. I was tired as shit—had been all day—but I decided that I could churn out one fucking story. I turned back and walked towards her bed, plopping my ass down on the side of it. She stared at me with her eyes wide, grinning uncontrollably. "Which one would you want me to tell you, sweetie?" I asked.

"The one about when you first met daddy"

"C'mon, honey! I've told you that story so many fucking times"

She pouted when I told her that. Eight years old and she's already trying to master the art of the glare. "Shit, Mommy! You said you would tell me the story anytime I wanted!"

I winced when I heard her say that—I thought she would forget that I told her. And in case you're wondering why I wasn't wincing at her free use of the word "shit", it's because…well, it's because it's pretty much normal for her; she's a fucking potty mouth. Plus, she probably got it from me. Besides, I was much worse at her age, trust me. "Fine" I reluctantly agreed, sighing resignedly. "It all started when your Daddy went to threaten a bad man on behalf of a girl"

"Who wasn't you, right, Mommy?" she helped.

"No, sweetie, it wasn't me. So, he went to this apartment that was fuckin' dingy and dirty and saw huge killers that were much bigger than he was. And like the dipshit your daddy was back then, he decided to threaten them anyway and warn them off of the girl"

"Hey, don't call Daddy a dipshit, Mommy! He was being brave!"

"Oh, I know sweetie, I know. It was very brave" I said, smiling at her, tapping her nose with my finger as she giggled. "But…he was way in over his head. And they were about to kill him—"

"When you burst in and killed them all! Right, Mommy?" Her excitement had peaked and I was very much afraid she wouldn't be able to hit the hay anymore.

"Yes, baby. Mommy swooped in and killed them all. The end. Now go to sleep, sweetie" I said firmly but gently, kissing her on her forehead, while I redid her tucking in.

"And then you guys kissed and got married, right? Right?" she pestered.

"No, that happened much later, baby. Go to sleep. I'll finish it tomorrow, I promise" I stood up and walked over to the light switch by the door. "Is your knife under your pillow, sweetie" I asked, as I turned back to her.

"Yup, it's right here, Mommy" she assured me. She let go of her teddy bear for a second and pulled a ten-inch Navy issue combat blade from under her pillow, showing it to me. "See?" She put it back and grabbed her bear again, attempting to fall asleep as she closed her eyes.

I laughed as said good night to her, switched off the light and closed her room door. That knife was her favorite. She loved it with a passion ever since I got it for her sixth birthday. She was so fuckin' happy to use it and help me torture information out of a drug dealer pussy that Dave and I brought home when she was seven. It was an understatement to say that she was absolutely in love with striated blades.

I thought about checkin' up on her older sister and brother, but decided against it when a fucking wave of fatigue swept through my frame. I went straight to Dave's and my room, trudging to the bed and throwing myself on it. Unfortunately it was dark and I had fucking thrown myself right on top of Dave, who wasn't really asleep, seeing as he gasped in pain when I fell on him. "Mindy? What the hell?" he whispered, his voice muffled because he was under the sheets. I buried my face in his chest as I yawned. "Why the fuck did we think it was a good idea to have kids, dumbass?"

"Uh, it was mostly your idea. You got the baby fever, remember?" He reminded me, taking the sheet from over his head and looking down at me as I was still face down on his chest. He started stroking my hair softly as I yet again, let out another sigh. "You're not suggesting that we get rid of them, are you?" he asked curiously, obviously teasing me. I gathered what strength I had left and pulled myself up so that our faces were on the same level. He was still caressing my hair and my eyes had started to adjust to the dark, allowing me to see his face just a bit. "If anyone touches my kids" I said expressionlessly, my eyes half closed from sleep, "then I'll dismember them and jam one half of their castrated genitalia down their throat and the other up their ass"

"Sounds kinky" he laughed. Dave was still pretty much a geek, like he was back then. Though, not as pussyish and not with the same ridiculous hair. Either way, I was way out of his effin league. We closed the gap between our lips and had a deep, long kiss, ending it with several small ones. And just like that, the drowsiness was half gone, and I was hornier than a fucking nympho on ecstasy.

It sounds crazy but there was always something about Dave that could turn me on the way no one else could and never has. Maybe it was because he was the one who saved my life, twice, shortly after he had met me. He also continued to stick with me by going on patrol with me, even though he didn't want to. He was even there when I had the occasional breakdown because of my dad's death. His relationship with me fucked up all his others; the ones with Todd and Marty, his dad and even Katie. I was actually the reason that they had broken up. Well, it wasn't just his self appointment to do everything with me that caused that—it was also the fact that after I turned fourteen, oblivious to the fucking fact that I had just gone through puberty, I suddenly woke up with a sex drive. And what do you think a girl, who has daddy issues and vengeance issues and anger issues, does with a sex drive?

Dave was my first and only choice because I knew he was the only one who deserved me. What no one told me, though, was that fourteen year old girls don't go after twenty year old boys. But I didn't care. The first time I tried to seduce him though, I freaked him the fuck out. We were on patrol staking out a warehouse and I very casually asked him if he ever stared at my butt. After a shitstorm of stammering, he finally coherently denied it. But I kept trying, kept coming on to him time and again, persevering against him shitting me to 'go after boys my own age'. Katie noticed all this eventually, and told Dave it was either her or his friendship with me. And for some fucked up reason…he chose me. He was devastated after she left him but I… I just couldn't believe he had chosen me. I think that was the moment that I fell in love with Dave Lizewski and it ceased being just about having him 'quench the fire in my oven'.

Then, when I was sixteen or seventeen, after years of trying to get him to take me seriously and bang the shit out of me, I finally caught him at a weak moment. He was slightly drunk and bitching about being alone for the rest of his life. That day he literally fucked me senseless. My body was one giant nerve ending for pleasure. I couldn't get enough of it after that and neither could he, no matter what he fucking said to dissuade me. My time as the bitch slap of vengeance, took a serious dive during that period. I basically tried to fill the hatred and rage shaped hole in me with indiscriminate sex instead of the steady dose of violence. It was years later that I learned that much like killing, sex was only a temporary high. It didn't last for shit and kept you coming back for more. But back then, at that point, I didn't seem to care. Dave and I were humping like rabbits on speed. And then when I was nineteen, I somehow got pregnant and the rest of my life from then until now was a blur of killing criminals, changing diapers, being a stay at home mom, and having even more babies. It was fucking stressful but…ultimately, a life I got to like.

Plus, it wasn't like I didn't get special periods of time all to myself. Taking advantage of them was something I couldn't afford _not_ to do. So, even though I had just finished telling a story to Natalie, my eight year old daughter, added to the fact that I didn't sleep all of last night because I was turning a child pornography ring into red mush—I really wanted to have sex with my husband at the moment. But despite us being locked in a passionate kiss as one of my hands worked on him, getting him hard in no time—he broke the kiss, and gripped my shoulders firmly. Not willing to give up so easily, I took my kisses to his neck but when he didn't bother to respond and sighed deeply, I knew he was giving me the signal to stop. Re-fucking-luctantly, I stopped and brought my head up again so I could face him. "Don't make me have to rape you, dumbass" I playfully threatened.

"C'mon, I'm just as tired as you, honey. We can do this tomorrow" he promised, making me moan in fucking frustration as I abruptly rested one side of my head on his chest again. "Mindy?" I heard him call, as I allowed sleep to once again drag me down deeply. I felt him throw part of the sheets over me, letting me stay in that position on top of him as I drifted off into the most refreshing sleep that I'd had in days.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_There you have it! So, I just wanted to say that if you find it offensive and stuff: sorry. That's the way my friend wanted it and yes, she has something that I would call potty mouth. Also, I don't know how old Dave is cuz I don't think it was ever mentioned in the movie. But Mindy was like eleven, so I assume he's about six years older than her._


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello, boys and girls! It's time for the much awaited second chapter. Sorry that I took so long (blame school). I can almost assure you that it won't happen again. I want to thank everyone who reviewed the first chapter—you guys are freakin awesome. I will try and make it a good fic that'll be entertaining enough. Even though I claimed that I was writing this fic solely for my friend, I must say that I've rather enjoyed the way that it turned out. _

_**Chapter two**_

**[Mindy's POV]**

"—oh, yes!….yes!….fuck!….yes!...fuck!...that's it!...shit!...Oh God….YES!...FUUUCK!...Yes!"

Moaning out a couple of incomprehensible words as I climaxed, I collapsed on top of a more or less silent Dave, who preferred to fucking grunt anyway during sex. I had woken up pretty early and couldn't help taking him up on his offer that he made last night. Early morning sex + Well rested Mindy is always = orgasms galore. The long drawn out 'fuck' was the third time that I came since we had started, like, thirty minutes before. Like I said, it wasn't anything about his prowess or his junk—although, he was endowed enough down under—but it was something about Dave himself that fucked me up and set my body on fire. I guess that it was what mushy pussies called 'Love', I guess. Never been one to feel my feelings, y'know? But for Dave, I could admit it—I was in fucking love with the man.

I rolled off of him and we both lay on our backs, panting. "Nice" he simply said, breaking a silence that seemed like several hours as I recuperated from my sex concussion. "Nice? That was some of my best work" I argued teasingly. "Besides" I added, looking down at my breasts as I cupped them, "I let my girls tag along so they could help"

"Oh, they helped alright" Dave laughed, running circles around one of my nipples with his finger. I cursed under my breath because he was turning me the fuck on again. As I planned on acting on that feeling, the shitfucking alarm clock went off, meaning: Saturday had begun. In an hour, it was gonna be eight and my kids were gonna need to gorge themselves on something, so I forced myself out of bed, and started putting my pyjamas back on. Dave just lay in bed, looking at me dress up. At a point, I realized he was staring at me and I stared right back, a little confused. "What the fuck are _you_ staring at?"

"…You're beautiful, y'know that? Fuckin' drop dead gorgeous" he told me.

"…Wow. Now if that wasn't corny as shit, than I don't know what is" I laughed, and he shot me a smile, because he knew—oh yes, the lovable jackass of mine knew—that I loved nothing more than when he told me shit like that. It made my day, always. I mean, we've survived criminals, villains, wannabe villains, drug lords, you name it. But I can't believe that despite going through all that shit that could've killed me, I lucked out and I'm alive today as Mindy Lizewski. Okay, so it isn't the most glamorous surname ever but who gives a shit? I was alive with someone I truly loved. What more could a vigilante criminal killer mother and wife ask for?

"So, what do you guys wanna do today?" I asked, as my family stuffed their faces full of pancakes at the breakfast table.

"Target practice!" Natalie shrieked, making Dave smile at her as she did.

My first child, Damon, was playing with his food and looked like he was bored. "I don't know. Maybe I'll just hang out with some friends" Just recently turning fourteen, he had fucking turned into a poster boy for masculine PMSing since adolescence punched him in the gut years back. "Whatever" our eldest daughter Rose said, who didn't understand why Damon would opt for something so fucking mundane. She had finished her food and was reading a magazine. "Patrol would be nice" she suggested, making me cock my head to one side as I considered it. She had been away from patrol for a while now, because of her father who told her she should take a break and focus on school. Of all my kids, she was the one who made the biggest change while she was crime fighting, switching instantaneously from a typical sixteen year old to a dangerous vicious criminal killer. She once murdered a man with a piece of twine. She was my star pupil.

Dave and I had adopted—well, technically we didn't adopt her. We found her in a women trafficking hideout, after slaughtering all the shithead perverts we could find. The goons there knew that they were going to die when we burst in, so the fucking sickos killed most of the women there before we could get to them. Her mother must have been among the numbers of the massacred. It was fucking horrible. There was this girl just crying in the midst of bodies and body parts and, what—we were just supposed to pass her over to child services or some shit? Damon was three by then so we were familiar with the having-a-kid territory. We just took her. End of story. She's ours and she may have as well come out crying and kicking and screaming from my vagina cuz she takes after me anyway, in both attitude and personality. Besides, the witnessing of women being shot and hacked to pieces must have done some 'Dexter' type shit to her, because the killing came naturally to her. She was the one who trained her own ass off when she was younger, literally begging us for a slice of the action. And now she was all grown up, trying to get us to let her prowl the streets alone.

"Patrol, huh?" Dave wondered, considering it as well. "What did you have in mind, honey?"

Rose gulped down a cup of OJ before setting it down on the table. "Well, there's this serial killer apparently on the loose in Brooklyn and Manhattan, who targets teenage girls who are the same build, and height as me but a different hair color. Blondes, specifically"

"So let me guess" I interrupted. "You wanna dye your hair—"

"And do a 'Hook-n-Bait'" Dave helped me finish. He and I had done this before, but with me as the bait back in the day. We would put a chip under the skin that could be tracked by some very cool equipment that we had, and then I would go hang around the place where people were said to be disappearing. Serial killers are very paranoid pussies, so it didn't work every time, but when it did, Dave would track me, free me and then we'd put some extreme hurtin' on the bastard. It was some fucking risky shit that was more dangerous than it was worth. We had never really done it with Rose but we taught her all the shit in our playbook just in case.

"I don't wanna kill a serial killer!" Natalie pouted. "I wanna do target practice!"

I ignored my youngest daughter's complaints for the mean time and concentrated on the nonchalance of my son. "Damon, you sure you don't wanna help your sister with the 'Hook-n-Bait'?" Looking up at me, he shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. I just want to hang out with friends today and at least pretend I'm normal" he answered. I sighed when I heard him say that. Here's the truth, people: kids love to rebel. And don't think for a cotton-fucking-picking minute that they only rebel against the good values. No, they rebel against whatever their parents say the norm is. I mean, if we were a bible clutching, catholic family for instance, Damon would want to hang with his friends doing illegal shit or whatever. But since illegal shit is already the norm in the house, he rebels against _that_ in favor of doing innocent type stuff. Honestly, I will never fucking understand teenagers because during my teenage years, I didn't have time to get all emotional and depressed. I was too busy racking up a kill count that would match the size of genocide, and also trying to get Dave into my pants. All of which I did achieve eventually.

"Fine, then. I don't need you to help me, asshole" Rose countered, scoffing as she did.

"Fuck you, Rose" Damon shot back. He smiled slightly as if daring her to start an insult war. Dave decided to step in before she did. "There's no need to get your sister riled up, Damon. Apologize"

"She's not my sister" He said. "She's an evil artificial robot—"

"Who's gonna eat your brains because my creators gave me a taste for them" Rose helped him finish. The two of them glared at each other…and then suddenly burst into laughter. They're relationship was a pretty complicated one. Damon knew that I didn't give birth to Rose, and so the two of them often made up fake conspiracy theories about who she really was. In reality though, they were closer than anything you could imagine. Rose wasn't old by much when she met Damon, but she took care of him a lot, got very overprotective of him and has been ever since. The bond they had was indestructible. I sometimes believed that he confided in her more than he did with me or Dave. It didn't matter if they weren't biological brother and sister. They were fucking best friends.

"Fine…I guess I can help her this one time" Damon conceded. She playfully pushed him and he responded by pushing her too. "That's great" I said, trying hard not to look at the disapproving stare that Dave was giving me. He didn't like our kids going at it alone and kept suggesting that they wait until they were well into their late teens, and it took my constant reminding, telling him I was fucking people up as Hit-Girl before I turned twelve. I had faith in them and even though, yeah, I was worried, it seemed Dave's worries overtook his trust in their abilities. Damon had started training at the same age that I did and he was currently taking lessons from me in aikido, already fucking good in other grappling martial arts like jujutsu and the striking techniques like Karate and Tae kwon do. Rose was far gone: Kung fu, Karate, Aikido, Judo, kendo—which was basically bad-ass swordfighting technique—and kickboxing, were some of the Martial arts she had already mastered. What did I tell you? The girl was unhealthily obsessed with learning ways to let her murderous rage out. Don't even get me started on her prowess with weaponry. She was the only person I knew who could even handle a pump action with grace. Well, besides me of course.

"Mom? Dad?" Rose called out, snapping us out of our visual conversation, which consisted of us shooting each other different looks and glares. We turned to look at them, careful not to give away the reason for our silent disagreement through our body language. "Damon and I are gonna go see what we can start planning up"

"Yeah, sure" I said, quick to agree before Dave could object. Without another word, they went upstairs, leaving me with a pissed husband and impatient eight year old. "What the fuck, Mindy?" he began, as I sighed, expecting a fucked up lecture. "You know how I feel about the kids doing shit solo"

"Why do you keep thinking that they're incapable of doing this? You weren't much older than Rose when you started out as Kick-Ass" I reminded him.

"Yeah, I know, but I also remember being out of my league and way in over my head when the real shit started going down"

"Hence the training they've received, dumbass. They're ready for this"

"I…I just want them to have capable backup, that's all" he confessed, clearly not willing to get into any argumentative bullshit at the moment. "Fine" I said, giving in to his uneasiness about the whole thing. "One of us can tag along, I guess" I cleared the table as Natalie again made her presence known. "I want to have target practice, dad!" she pleaded. Smiling at her, Dave got up and took her hand to lead her into the living room.

"We have to talk about it, honey. You haven't finished learning to throw your knife" he said to her.

"But you and mom promised!"

"No way, Natalie. There is no way I'm taking you out to use the .38 to shoot with if you haven't learnt to throw the knife" he maintained. I heard their voices fade as they went out of ear shot, but I could still make out Natalie's failing attempts at whining. I laughed to myself as I took in the fact that Saturday was well underway.

**[Dave's POV]**

Empty abandoned warehouse. Pretty spacious with lots of discarded crap lying around. It was our favorite place to spar, Mindy and me. We'd basically used places like this to keep in shape the past couple of years. There had been others but from time to time, a warehouse would get bought and fixed up, causing us to move our couple's Fight club somewhere else. Mindy was currently making a call to the kids, who were being watched by employees at Atomic Comics. Which I now owned along with several opened branches all over New York and elsewhere. Yup, I owned Atomic Comics. Hey, once a comic book geek, always a comic book geek. After wasting lowlifes, taking their money was something we usually did but didn't make a habit of. Even after her Dad had died all those years ago, Mindy had been rolling in cash already. So by the time we had gotten together and realized we would need a legit, distracting way of getting money to keep people from looking too closely, Mindy had simply bought the comic book store. It was actually kind of a birthday present for my twenty fifth. How much more fucking romantic can you get?

Looking at her now as she stretched before we did what we had to do, I couldn't help but think back to the fucked up craziness our lives have been. I mean, after her dad had died, I took it upon myself to do whatever she wanted me to do. I owed her that much but to tell you the truth, if it were up to me, I might've given up this whole costume hero thing ages ago. Not because I still didn't have that child-like wonder in me at why people didn't risk their lives for their fellow man, but because I realized how dangerous the criminal underworld was. Without Hit-Girl like skills, you were toast. And back then, I didn't have any skills what so ever. All I had was my optimism, fucked up nerve endings, metal plates and my batons, which I couldn't even use properly anyway. But I stayed. I stayed even when it fucked up my relationship with Katie, a girl I thought I would marry one day. She told me to choose between the two of them and I chose to keep looking out for Mindy because she was my responsibility. I stayed with Mindy because I thought it was the right thing to do. Because her dad would've wanted me to.

It made it all the more unbearable when she started taking an 'interest' in me, so to speak, because it wasn't like I could avoid seeing her or anything. You have to understand, she was still pretty young back then. So young that she still hadn't fully grown tits yet. But that didn't stop her from trying to seduce me every single time. It was some fucked up shit: like she would stare at my crotch for minutes on end and mouth the words "nice", all for my benefit. Or, she would ask very, very inappropriate questions that I don't even like remembering. But she fucking persevered and when she was seventeen and I was drunk one day, it all paid off for her. God knows where Mindy had learned all the stuff she did that day, because she sure as hell did not just improvise it. It was later that she would tell me she had "consumed" a large amount of porn in preparation for that moment. From having sex to rooming together in an apartment to having our first kid, which I'll admit we didn't plan—it all happened so fucking fast.

By the time we had found and taken in our daughter Rose, a traumatized six year old girl, we had been made an indelible mark on the criminal underworld. We were feared. We were legends. All those years before, were what I had used to get my act together. Sure, Mindy had a five year head start, but before long the fighting and weaponry skills were mine. I was finally a lethal force to be reckoned with and not just an inexperienced inspiration. Most of the other heroes in the city were just like how I was at the start: amateurish. A lot of them got killed and a lot of them gave up and packed it in. But some of them were good. Some of them survived the crime and the villains that popped up as a response to the costumed vigilante thing that we did. A good number of the villains were fucking nasty and the rest were harmless. But me and Mindy couldn't give less of a fuck. If you weren't on our side, we wasted you. Fuck the Batman and Joker dynamic; we made sure we never met the same villain twice. It was one of the reasons why Red Mist left New York. He knew that if we ever laid hands on him, it would be over. So he ran like a coward, and sent wave after wave of villains and thugs at us, sometimes for no other purpose of business than to kill us. We fucking survived. Cuz that's what we do.

I also vividly remember when Mindy came to me with a slightly redesigned Big Daddy costume, telling me that it was up to me to let her Dad's alter ego be immortalized too. She told me that I had outgrown the Kick-Ass thing and suggested I give it to Damon, who would continue that legacy. At first, I was a bit reluctant but in time grew to understand what she meant. She also decided to pass on the Hit-Girl mantle to Rose when the time came. Both of us in turn, opted for darker, more mature figures. Her new costume however, still kept the black and purple and colored wig, but the outfit was a bit different.

So far though, Damon hadn't really accepted the Kick-Ass role wholeheartedly for what it was: an inspiration. Rose on the other hand, brought Hit Girl fresh fame and fear in the criminal underworld. She was a natural killer. The fact that our kids so readily took after us did not sit down well with Marcus at first but he later admitted that he knew we ourselves would never to be able to change or stop. All he did was insist in taking care of the kids in their early years, when they were still young and we had to leave them to go out to "rectify" the crime situation. He kept on reminding us that it would be a bad idea to teach our kids our craft. And who knows—maybe he was right.

Who am I fucking kidding—_I_ thought he was right. This life that we lived, we did it of our own choice. Well, I did anyway. Mindy was thrust into it by her dad. And that's exactly what I didn't want to happen to our kids. If they wanted in, like Rose did, then there wasn't a problem. But forcing them from the get-go as if they had no choice really put a bad taste in my mouth. Not that I hadn't said it to Mindy but it seemed like she really didn't agree with me on that. She kept feeding me a speech about them being able to defend and protect themselves in a city that was fucking overrun with crime, which always surprised me because it was true. We kept up the killing and the murder of the bad guys and what not but criminals just kept coming back for more. It's like people were addicted to getting ganked.

"Ready?" Mindy asked, getting my attention.

"Sure" I responded, barely assuming my fighting stance before she came rushing at me. Mindy had always been fast as shit. The annoying thing was—she got faster every time. I almost didn't dodge the gauze wrapped hand coming toward my chest, but as soon as I rapidly stepped out of the way, I bent low and spun round to sweep her off her feet, only feeling air as she flipped back and landed in a crouch, like the one I was in. For a split second we smiled at each other, as we both waited for the other person to make the next move.

"Remember, no face hits…we promised the kids we'd take them out for pizza at seven. And go say hi to my Dad" I reminded her. She smiled even more when she heard me say it. "You sure that you're not just afraid of fucking with me, dumbass?" she sneered.

"You seem to be forgetting that I beat up an ambush of eight guys, and barely got more than bruises" I taunted, reminding her about last month's activities.

"Oh sweetie" she cooed in a sarcastic way. "I was doing that when I was twelve"

"I mean without guns or knives. Just fists"

"Oh, you're right…I was doing _that_ when I was sixteen"

She smirked as she let that last comment sink in, hoping it would get me fucking angry or raging or something. But it didn't. They never did. I actually had always thought that her taunting was kinda hot. Without saying anything further, we both suddenly rushed at each other. Hello, pain. Be gentle.

**[Damon's POV]**

"Why are you staring into space like an idiot, idiot?"

Rose's voice brought me tumbling out of my thoughts and I turned my attention to her. She was sitting opposite me in a booth at Atomic Comics, working on something in a notepad. Most likely plans for her 'hook-n-bait'. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Natalie sitting on the counter, enthusiastically telling her favorite sales person, Maggie, about something. "What do you think she's talking about?" I asked, a bit curious as to what Rose thought. She turned to looked at Natalie too, watching her for a while before turning back to concentrate on what she was doing. "Nothing important, I bet. Or incriminating, if that's what you think. Natalie knows the drill. No swearing or talking about the killing thing to other people, no matter how close you are"

"You think that she wants to?" I asked again.

"…I think that this isn't about Natalie but about you" she said, without looking up from her plans. "Since your first guy period, you've been acting more and more strange, like you're having second thoughts about the family business"

I picked up one of the many comics, lying on the table between us and started to leaf through it. "And what if I am?"

"Then I feel tremendously sorry for you" she said, straight faced as a veteran poker player. I closed the comic book and slapped it back down on the table. "Hey, y'know, maybe I just want to see what it would be like to have a normal life, to do shit with friends, to have normal parents who are strict and would flip out if you broke curfew or something" I vented.

Rose narrowed her gaze in confusion. "Mom and Dad do freak out when we break curfew"

"That's not the point" I countered. "I'm just saying—we fucking kill people, Rose"

"People who deserve it"

"Because they're guilty of what—killing people? Don't you see the irony in that?"

"Not the same thing, dickhead" She had stopped her planning and was leaning back into her chair, her arms folded as she regarded me. "They hurt innocents. We don't"

"Oh c'mon! Admit that a part of you in particular—a fucking large part, if I might add—loves the killing a little more than the reason behind it"

"Have I ever denied that?" She inquired, looking me in the eyes, unblinkingly. Sure, she was my sister and I loved her and all that crap…but her stare really freaked me the fuck out. She was a cold blooded killer, unlike me, what with my conscience not being completely dead and all. "I love watching the life go from someone's eyes, never to come back. It soothes me" she told me, half serious, half sarcastic.

"You're fucking insane, y'know that?"

"And you're a fucking pussy" she stated, a little pissed. "What we do is right. And we save people's lives. People who they're about to kill and people who they eventually will kill. Suck it the fuck up" She was about to go on a roll when a dorky looking dork fuck came from nowhere and proceeded to talk to Rose with a silly grin plastered on his face. "Um….hey. Uhhh…..my name's Jesse and me and my friends were wondering what a hot chick like you is doing here, in a comic book store"

Now, considering her mean streak with criminals, you'd think that a girl like Rose would be mean as shit to people, especially dorks and geeks that hit on her practically every day that we were in this place. But she wasn't like that. That was one thing about Rose that I liked. She saw no reason to adhere to the mean-girl stereotype, just because it seemed like she should. She was always letting them down easy and giving them reasons to think that they could get girls as pretty as she was. And believe me, admitting that your Latina sister is hot is not very easy nor good in any way. But it's true.

"They also sell coffee here. Maybe I'm here for that, slick" she answered. The idiot actually stood there for the next couple of seconds with his mouth open, probably shocked at the fact that a pretty girl had just talked to him. "Is something wrong? Is there anything on my face except for my face?" she asked, snapping him out of his sex daydream about her that he was so obviously having. After stuttering out that there wasn't anything on her face, he looked back at where his friends sat and invited her to join him.

"That's really….sweet, I guess, but I can't. I'm waiting here for my boyfriend, Jesse. But it was nice meeting you" She smiled at him and he smiled back, albeit nervously. "Boyfriend?" he asked, clearly scared that some jock would trounce in and beat the shit out of him.

"Yeah, but don't worry: I'll keep this flirting of ours between me and you, Jesse"

He smiled and nodded quickly, jetting back to his friends table in an instant, as Rose continued writing stuff in her note pad. "You do know that if you had told him fuck off from the very beginning, you could've avoided all that and avoided giving him hope that he could get with a girl like you, don't you?" I observed.

"Come on" she said, glancing at him for a moment. "Look at him. He's gonna be a virgin for a while. Why bring the poor guy down?"

"Don't you plan on having sex, ever?" I wanted to push her fucking buttons for a change.

"When I want to. And when I'm fucking ready, I will rock some lucky bastards world" she retorted. She was obviously in no rush to hop in the sack with anyone.

"Well that's good for you. I, on the other hand, am not getting laid ever. Not with the amount of crazy our family is. I definitely could not risk a girl finding out about that"

"Don't worry" she consoled. "I'm technically not related to you, so, when push comes to shove, I'd totally jump your bones, if it'd help" she said, covering her grinning face with her hands as moments later, I threw an empty soda can at her. "You're fucking sick" I said, laughing as I picked up another one that I had drunk from to throw at her.

"Hey, what're sisters for?" she laughed.

"You're not my sister. You're a test tube human created by super villains…"

"To infiltrate your life as well as mom and Dad's...to find out your weak spots and exploit them eventually, allowing me to destroy you guys" she finished, happy with the fake story she had come up with. I decided, however, once again to ruin the mood and talk about my perception of our extracurricular activities. "But seriously" I said, my tone low and serious, matching my expression which had turned serious as well, "this shit about what we do is bugging me. First major concern: we could die. We could die every single time we dress up to fight these wackos. We barely can cover the bruises on our bodies without looking overdressed"

"Fair enough. What else?"

"Second major concern: what happens in the event that we're caught? Imagine the eye of the media circus shit storm that we're gonna be in. What will happen to our family then? To Natalie?"

She still didn't look like she was impressed with my questions as she answered me. "Nothing like that's gonna happen. Natalie is fine. Besides, there's no fucking way that we get caught and Natalie gets the fucking chair or some shit. She'll probably be taken in to foster care and plagued by a shrink her whole life, who'll say that we 'forced her' to train to be like us. No one'll believe she would do shit like that of her free will" she explained.

"All right, I fucking get it. Third and final concern, though: do we ever get out of this life? Ever? There's no prize at visible end? Just more killing, death, violence and fucking blood?" I could tell that the worry in my voice was apparent from the way that she looked at me when I had said that. She stared at me for a while and then started rifling through the comics on the table, finally stopping as she held up a Batman comic that depicted him in a fierce scowl on the cover. "Who is this on the cover?" she asked suddenly, out of the blue.

"Batman" I answered, playing along to see where she was headed.

"Right. It's Batman. We all know how his parents got fucked, and how that led to him being fucked up. What we are is the preemptive form of him, striking out against the scumfucks before they eventually, in a rounda-fucking-bout or direct way, hurt the people we love. The people that we care about. Innocent people, Damon. Is it gonna take you seeing Natalie raped or me maimed or Mom and Dad chopped up before you take it all seriously? You're lucky. Most superheroes have to go through the trauma before they make up their minds, unlike you, who doesn't have to see Uncle Ben die before realizing that with great power comes a great responsibility to fuck the criminal filth up" All the while, I let her talk knowing that she hadn't reached her point yet. "And yeah" she continued, "there is no prize or visible end: so fucking what? That's what real life is like. It's a kick in the nads. It's nasty and full of shit, and that's why there will always be people who will try to harm others because of how life is. That's why we can never stop this till we're pushing up daisies. There will always be someone to kill" she clarified, before dropping the 'Batman' comic and returning to her notepad. "In the mean time, Batman is what we should be aiming for. His fictional prowess in martial arts, technology, and detective skills are what we should be fucking learning and trying to make real"

I sighed defeatedly as I thought about how a large part of me agreed with her fucking manifesto. We were simply doing to these criminals, what needed to be done. The Law would basically do the same to them: which would either be prison or the death penalty, both of which still ended in death. But if that was true, I still don't know why it didn't sit well with me and I still doubted our crime crusade's legitimacy. "Wow. That shit that you witnessed when you were younger really did a fucking number on you, didn't it?"

She had stopped looking up at me as she once again became fully engrossed in what she was doing. "You have no shit fucking idea" she confirmed. I chuckled, looking at my watch, suddenly losing my appetite for pizza, just wanting to go home at the moment. 6:30. Mom and Dad would be finishing their sparring and making their way to the store at any moment. Sighing yet again as I leaned back with my hands behind my head, I let Rose go on with her work undisturbed as I thought about what it would like be if I was born into another family. A normal non-killing, non-superhero family. It sounded nice.

_There you have it! The chapter was also delayed a little longer because the person I'm writing it for, read it and wanted to make changes. Which I said no to. I mean sure it's her story but she should let me write it, right? Hope you guys like it. And the guy who says he doesn't like the centralized text; here you go. I, personally, am indifferent but hey, the story __**is**__ for the readers. I really hope you guys like it and once again sorry for the long wait. I'm actually gonna be updating all my fanfic over the next few days cuz I've really been gone long. And remember: don't review only, tell me what you think of the story and the characters. I'd really like to hear it, whether it's harsh or not. The next chapter, I'll try to focus on their alter egos and hopefully describe their costumes (which I should probably sketch first!). Hope to update as soon as possible. Thanks._


	3. Chapter 3

_It's illogical for me to apologize now, seeing as I took more than the forgiveable amount of time before updating this. Words cannot begin to express how sorry I am. Actually, the whole words-cannot-express-thing is what my problem has been all this while. Not the whole problem, just a part of it. #$%ing writers block. It was awful. Like being trapped in your own mind while it closes in on you. Y'know what? I'm not gonna make a promise about updating any more, cuz if I do, it might feel like a lie to me. I'm just gonna hope to God I can write consistently and update as fast as I can. Simple._

_**Chapter three**_

**[Rose's POV]**

Sometimes I spend my time wondering how many other people have killed someone in cold blood. If they've felt the same rush, adrenaline spike and momentary time pause that I feel. That warm spray of blood that squirts on your face and sometimes on other parts of the body where it isn't felt as vividly. Of course, I'm talking about killing bad guys. The criminal shitheads. Although, there's a small part of me that reasons that the feeling you get from killing a murderer would be no different from the feeling gotten from killing an innocent person. Yeah, I'm fucked up for thinking that, I know. And that same small part of me doesn't give a shit.

And all it cared about right now was basking in the violent glory of me wielding Hit-Girl's signature weapon: detachable bo staff with twin knives at both ends. The air in the warehouse we were in had finally started to clear up after me and Damon had burst in and littered the place with smoke bombs about 5 minutes earlier. So much for your fucked up drug deal, drug dealers. Most of them were dead and or dismembered on the floor already. I don't know about Damon, but I was at my personal best: ten kills in less than six minutes. It felt great to break my previous record of seven kills. Landing in a crouch after a high leap I made to decapitate a moron who kept shooting haphazardly, I turned to look at my far left, following the continued sound of grunting and swearing. Damon was engaged in hand to hand with some clichéd fat mob fuck. Well, it wasn't really hand to hand—seeing as Damon had hacked one of the guy's hands off. The guy was clutching his profusely bleeding stump while swinging away with his one good arm, spewing curses that would've made even mom blush. Damon looked like he was plain just having fun as he dodged every clumsy blow coming his way. But even though I was happy that he had clearly come out of his fucked up funk from earlier on, I didn't want him playing with the animals that needed to be put down. "Stop fucking around, Kick-Ass" I yelled from across the room, standing up from my crouching position. Just then, some guy clocked me from my right on my temple, using a knuckle duster. Luckily the gas mask that I had been wearing this whole time took some of the brunt of the blow but even still, the guy had a mean left hook. By now, the smoke from the smoke bombs was almost completely gone and I got a good look at the guys face. He was young, maybe in his early twenties, definitely a small timer looking to prove himself. I took off the mask while grinning at what I knew was about to happen, spitting out blood from my mouth, with my gaze still fixed on the douche who thought he was Mohammed Ali from the way he kept bouncing up and down. Ironically, my time as a crime fighter revealed that that's exactly what people when they can't fight. I looked at Damon just as he was round housing the fat guy into oblivion and I decided to humor my guy as well, just for the fucking fun of it. Vigilante see, vigilante do.

With my staff sheathed and fists clenched, I looked the guy over, assessing how much of a threat he'd be while he just kept jumping like a fucking retard. He was definitely nervous and scared, partly because he knew who I was and what I could do and partly because the incontinent smile on my face was creeping him out. When he let his right fist go for my face, it was slow and clumsy, so much so that I didn't even react to it but just moved out of the way, giving him another chance to take a better shot. He used the same right hook, same speed, same everything with the first. Fucking pitiful. "Killing you is going to be easy" I laughed, momentarily freezing him up for a while in shock. When he did get his shit back together, he used his right hand—again—but this time it was fiercer, with more rage. I quickly moved slightly to the right of the blow, using my left to pull the hand, stopping his involuntarily lunging face with my right elbow. Swiftly following through, I took advantage of his hand that I still held firmly and broke it with my free right. He backed up in pain, screaming, not knowing whether to attend to the fracture or the busted nose. "You misused your right hand, so I took it away from you" I said, in the same tone of voice that mother's reserve for their kids when they're calmly reprimanding them.

"You bitch!" he yelled, removing his hand which had cupped his aching nose, reaching for a knife in his belt. "Seriously? Are you serious? You're a goon cunt with one fucking working arm and no fighting skills and I'm fucking Hit-Girl. There isn't a chance in hell that this'll end well for you" After a slight pause, he started to come at me and a thousand and one ways to kill him fleeted through my mind. Juicy, delicious ways, some of which involved my hands, some involving my bo staff and some involving his weapon. But before I could act on any one of them, his head practically exploded like a grapefruit from a bullet exiting his forehead. Damon was at my far left so I knew it couldn't have been him. As the guy fell dead to the floor, I quickly made out the well known costume of a fellow hero who stood at the far end of the building with a rifle in his hands. The costume was simple: everywhere above the waist was blue and the red part was everything below the belt, including his boots. The only parts not covered were the eye holes and the mouth area. His chest insignia was the Chinese character for 'immortality', which had something to do with his name-Mr Immortal. The strangest part of his get-up was the grey jacket that he always wore over his costume. It made him look like he was a hero on break or a hero inside the privacy of their home. He held the rifle that he had used to ice the goon I was fighting, leaning it against his shoulder as he made his way to me. "Hit-Girl, how very nice to see you" he said, with a slight smile playing on his face.

Mr. Immortal was a hero well known to our whole vigilante family. Dad and Mom had saved his ass a couple of times. He started some time before me and according to Dad, was a bit of a pussy. But he had the heart and the will, and so Dad hooked him with weekly training sessions with Mom and a martial arts instructor. Mom said that he almost quit once or twice because he thought that the training was more dangerous than the actual crime fighting, which sounds about right if you've ever trained with Mom. He originally used to call himself Bulletproof, but his current costume is an experimental material he stole from a baddy scientist—whom he killed—that absorbs impact and distributes it all over itself. It really made him basically bullet proof but more than even he could've imagined. So he got cocky and chose a cockier name. But although we were friends with the guy, the only person whose secret identity he knows is Dad's. He thinks that the rest of us are just heroes that he's rallied together under his wing. It was actually Dad's idea that we not reveal our identities, because he and Mom thought that it would be still dangerous and a risk. They still don't trust anybody. I personally didn't think that he was untrustworthy. Just a bit crazy.

"You took my kill, Immortal. Not fucking cool"

"The way I see it: kill's a kill. Ain't that right, Kick-Ass?" he asked, looking at Damon, who didn't seem to pay any attention to us as he used his Katanas to silence all the moaning, not-quite-dead-yet pricks lying on the ground. "I guess" Damon replied nonchalantly, stabbing a guy in the heart.

"How did you know something was going down here? You get a tip?" I inquired.

"Nope. Your team leader, Big Daddy, called. Said that I should provide back up if I could" It surprises me that Dad still thinks that we can't handle something like this. I've started to think that in his eyes, we'll never be ready. "Well, we apparently took care of it. Except for the one guy that you just shot now" I pointed out.

"Wow. You guys never cease to amaze me" he commented while looking around at our handy work. "Barely look old enough to drink but you sure can massacre the hell out of a room, can't you?"

"Don't look at me. I barely killed a quarter of these guys" Damon confessed.

"You don't say?" Immortal said to Kick-Ass while he kept eye contact with me. I knew exactly what he was thinking. The same thing that all heroes that I've worked together with think after seeing me in action—they think I'm extremely skilled, maybe too skilled even, and they think I'm gonna go off the deep end one day because they see the passion as obsession.

"Anything on your mind, Immortal?" I challenged, daring him to say it out loud.

"Nothing at all, Hit-Girl. Nothing at all" he maintained, still locked in a stare with me. Damon had finished what he was doing and walked by us to the table where the drugs and money were. "God, please tell me that you two aren't flirting or some shit" he stated as he went by us. "Don't be an idiot, Kick-Ass" I said, finally breaking my gaze and following him to see the goods. In moments all three of us were at the table, and Damon opened one of the two briefcases—only for it to be fucking empty.

"You gotta be shitting me. Where the fuck is whatever's supposed to be in the case?"

"Maybe one side was tryna screw the other over, Hit-Girl" Immortal concluded.

"Could be. Let's open the other one. Dibs if it's the cash" Damon joked as he opened the second case, only for all of us to be speechless when we viewed its content. It was of the ticking variety. "Those fuckers…left a bomb?"

"No. They left candy and treats, Kick-Ass" Immortal said sarcastically. There was about twenty minutes left on the thing, hence the lack of a serious freakout. "It was probably left for us cuz they anticipated us coming or it was for the other scumfucks in the deal. Can any of you disarm it?"

"I can, maybe" I offered. "But there's about a fourty percent chance that we go boom. I haven't completed my bomb disarmament training thing"

"I haven't even started" Damon looked like he was beginning to panic. "What do we do?"

"Get out and let the bomb blow. What was your first idea?"

"There's no need to be fucking snarky, Immortal" I reprimanded. "Even though you're right. We can use the bomb to clear all evidence of our little 'play date' with these guys"

"Right" Immortal agreed. "I guess you crazy kids can find your way out yourselves"

"Sure. Thanks for the assist, I guess"

"No problem, Kick-Ass. Hit-Girl" he said to me as a goodbye, before zooming across the room and out of the warehouse. "Guess we better follow his lead" Damon suggested. Nodding, I ran after him as he raced out through an exit and found the power bike we came on. I hopped on and started it while he got on behind me. "This is still fucking embarrassing, no matter what you say" he remarked, as he held my waist with his arms. "And don't say shit to comfort me cuz even though I can't see you smirking, I'll be able to feel it" I smiled anyway as we sped away from the scene of the crime only to hear an explosion a few minutes later. I felt him turn to look back at it. "Job well done, huh?" he said, unenthusiastically.

"Don't get too fucking excited and fall of the bike" I told him, my tone completely sardonic. After a while riding in silence, I decided to suggest something to him. "Hey, instead of going to the designated warehouse to change and then taking the bike back to the safe house, why don't we go on more patrol. Y'know, let off some steam?" I felt him pause to think about it then sigh in resignation. "Fine" he conceded. "But you are totally taking the heat when Mom and Dad go fucking ballistic"

"Attaboy" I cheered, cranking up the speed on the motorbike, looking forward to the lowlife pervert shopping we were about to go on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**[Mindy's POV]**

"Seriously, mommy. It still hurts"

"Don't worry, sweetie. You'll be feeling like your normal self soon enough"

Natalie looked at me as she lay in bed, with a pout on her face, revealing her disappointment. She had hoped to do something fun tonight, but when we got back from visiting Dave's Dad after pizza, she suddenly got a tummy ache. There was no way I was going out on patrol when she was feeling like crap. My palm quickly rested on her forehead, as I inwardly hoped to God that she wasn't gonna start running a fucking fever. Thankfully her temperature was fine. I looked back at Dave who was leaning against the frame of the door to her room, arms folded. He looked worried too, and I could tell that he was hoping that she wasn't sick too.

"How's she doing?"

"Not so well. The fucking tummy ache is really tearing through her" Instinctively, my hand travelled down to her belly, and I started to help her rub it gently. At that moment, in my mind, I considered the absurd fact that as parents, me and Dave could worry about a thing like mild body pain with our kids but then turn around and send them on patrol to kill lowlifes by themselves. I didn't know whether to laugh about it or be concerned for our fucking sanity.

Somehow, Dave knew what I was thinking at the moment, probably after coming to the same conclusion. "Thinking about the other children that we have, huh?"

"…They'll be fine" I told him, not knowing whether I was reassuring him or myself. "I know that they haven't been on a lot of patrols without either of us, but they can handle themselves more than we think they can" I made a passing glance at the clock in Natalie's room, hoping that Dave wouldn't see it. Fifteen minutes to twelve. "They're probably just taking their time with it"

"My tip was solid, though: drug deal going down in warehouse down by the docks" Dave maintained. "And knowing Rose, she wouldn't want it to take more than thirty minutes…she's kinda obsessed about that sort of stuff"

A brief smile swept over my face as Dave and I shared a look. Rose was certainly something. Part of me knows but doesn't want to admit that she's way more lethal than I was at that age. Probably. Just then, we both snapped our attention to Natalie as she groaned. Again, I continued to rub her stomach in earnest. Seriously, fuck tummy aches.

"Mom?"

"What is it, Nat? Is the pain worse?" I asked.

"No. It's just…I hope you're not mad that you can't go on patrol and you have to take care of me"

"What? Sweetie, that's fucking crazy! I'm not mad. Where would you get that?" I prayed that it wasn't her brother and sister that gave her that idea. Cuz then I'd have to beat the shit out of them. Literally.

"Nowhere. But you're always happy when you go on patrol"

"Oh, baby" I cooed, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I'm much happier when you're healthy and I'd giving up killing anyone—anyone at all—in the whole wide world to make sure you're fine first"

"Anyone? Even Red Mist?" she asked incredulously.

"Even Red Mist" I reassured her.

"That sounds fucked up, Mommy!" she giggled, forgetting her own pain for the moment. "It's Red Mist!" Saying his name again, she thought that it would drive her point home and make me realize that there was no way that I would ever let that fucker go if I had the chance. But I shook my head slowly, smiling at her. "Even if it was fucking Red Mist, honey. You come first, no matter what"

"Always" Dave confirmed, as he came to his daughter and kissed her forehead, stroking her hair afterwards. I knew that he was probably thinking about how my reassuring of Natalie had been something that she needed to hear. And from the way that he briefly looked at me, I also knew he was thinking about how he hoped that I meant it wholeheartedly, which was totally fucking absurd. Of course I meant it…didn't I? I know that I loved, was probably addicted, to being a superhero vigilante who killed the bad guys. But did a part of me honestly compare that degree of love to the love that my kids got from me?...I hoped not. It was then that Dave kissed Natalie goodnight and told me that he would be downstairs waiting for Rose and Damon. I sighed as he left the room, assuming that this was his form of freaking the fuck out for their safety.

"Mommy?"

I turned back to my daughter as she called out to me. "What?"

"Since it's already my bedtime…can you tell me the rest of the story? Of how you and Dad got married?" The excitement on her face almost made me laugh out loud. I mean, she had heard this story lots of times but never got sick of it. Even I was sick of it.

"No problem, honey" I agreed, cuddling up next to her as I began the story for the umpteenth time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**[Dave's POV]**

I woke up on the couch, at two o'clock, at first totally confused about where the fuck I was. I'd been watching the reruns of the old '90's Spider-Man cartoon, when I dozed off. When I wiped my eyes clean of the sleep and realized that I was in the living room, it was then that my brain also decided to inform me that there were sounds coming from the kitchen. I knew who it was already when I got up to check it out, even though for some reason, a voice inside me told me to brace for a burglar or some shit. As I approached the kitchen, where the lights were on, I could make out the hushed voices of my two kids that I was incredibly fucking angry at. Fuck you inside voice, you were wrong. They were sitting at the table and I noticed the alcohol, gauze as well as the other First Aid equipment lying around. Damon was holding a pair of tweezers and focusing his attention on his sister's shoulder. It could only mean one thing.

"Who got shot?" I asked suddenly, slightly startling them for a split second. "Christ, Dad. You scared the shit out of me" Rose confessed, grimacing as Damon used his tweezers on the wound.

"Hold still, turd!" Damon complained.

"Why would you guys just go for patrol? We only sent you out to take care of the drug deal!" I said, in my best 'I'm-so-disappointed-in-you' voice.

"Well, we took care of that early and decided to go out on the town. See if anybody needed a good spanking"

"Rose, you're supposed to be the responsible one cuz you're older…and more deadly too—but that's not the point!" I sighed, thinking about how my reprimand had gone all wrong. Leave it to me to include praise in it. "Wow. That's incredibly hurtful, Dad" Damon retorted, sarcasm clear in his voice. "So, you think she's more skilled than I am? I am so gonna run away from home"

"Shut up and get the bullet out of me" Rose demanded, only to hiss in pain moments later as Damon purposely moved the tweezers into the wound roughly. As I watched them, I decided that scolding them wasn't really necessary right now. Besides, when I started out as Kick-Ass, I was way more inexperienced than them and I attempted to go at it alone with no back up, no plan, no nothing. They actually were, in the true sense of the word, 'capable' of taking care of themselves. Maybe I was worrying for no reason.

"Well?" I asked, making them both look at me confusingly, not knowing what I wanted. "…Isn't any one gonna tell me what the fuck happened?"

Rose was the first to speak. "Drug deal seemed routine. Except for the part where there was no money, no drugs and bomb in one of the suitcases"

"A bomb? Who was trying to screw who over?"

"That's what we don't know. We let it blow…to clear all the evidence…of our little massacre" Damon was finding it hard to talk and get a grip on the bullet lodged in Rose's arm. I took a seat at the table as I watched him try to help his sister. "Did it penetrate the bone?" I asked.

"No. And thank God…cuz this…would have been even more painful", he said, as he pulled the bullet out swiftly, causing Rose who had been merely scowling until now to inhale sharply. Dropping the bullet and tweezers, Damon reached for the alcohol and poured some of it on the wound, making Rose gasp as she felt the obvious sting. She paused before tossing Damon the gauze with her okay arm. Finally, I decided that I had to ask. "How the fuck did you get shot any way?"

"Some fuckwad who was part of a gang that thought it would be a good idea to rape a 14 year old" she replied, staring intently at her arm as Damon wrapped the gauze round it. In shock, I stared at Damon with a bewildered expression on my face. Seconds later after the silence, he glanced at me and figured from my look that I thought Rose was talking about him almost getting raped. "Hey, no! Dad, it wasn't me! It was a 14 year old girl!" I sighed in relief as Rose started laughing at him.

"I'm guessing you killed him, huh?"

"If his penis' name is 'Him', then you bet" she answered flatly, making Damon snort uncontrollably. I decided then that I should just tell about what I thought of what they did. "Look, I'm gonna tell you guys straight up. I don't want you guys going for patrol unless we say so, so that we can at least know what to expect"

"Yes sir" Rose said, a little too quickly, giving me reason to think she didn't plan on listening to what I said. Damon just nodded and I knew he would listen, but mostly because he had started to give less of a fuck about vigilantism every day that went by. I sighed inwardly, knowing that adding anything else to my speech was fucking futile. Instead, I got up and decided that I should turn in for the night. "Don't get blood on the floor" I warned, as I went over to Damon and ruffled his hair, making him whine out "Dad!", before he attempted to readjust it. Moving to his side, I bent down to kiss Rose on the top of her head. "G'nite, sweetness" I whispered, almost feeling her grin with satisfaction underneath me while I did it because she knew that the kiss also doubled as a 'well done' gesture. "Nite, Daddy" she shot back, still grinning. As I walked away, I smiled to myself thinking about how Rose may be an extremely dangerous, ruthless killer but was just like any other sixteen year old girl: she reveled in the love and affection that we gave her. And sometimes, on extremely fucking rare occasions, you could see it on her face and hear it in her voice, how it made her feel young for a second. For a tiny instant, she reverted to being a little girl who was simply happy and wasn't permanently fucking damaged and tainted by death. The moments were so short that I'm not even sure if _she_ ever noticed them. As I made my way back into the living room so I could turn off the T.V and head upstairs, I could still barely make out their voices.

"Seriously? 'Nite Daddy'?" I heard Damon say to Rose.

"Hey, I can be cute when I want. Besides, you're just jealous that I have an amazing Dad who loves the shit out of me, while he just ruffles your hair"

"…That was incredibly hurtful…Mrs. Immortal!"

I heard as his joke was met with loud smack, which was followed by a whiny 'ow'. Shaking my head as I climbed up the stairs, I made up my mind to wait until tomorrow to tell them that they were grounded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Still recovering from the incorrigible disease that is writers block, I'm finding it very hard to come up with ideas to keep this fic going. But don't worry, I'll do my best and see if I can introduce more heroes and maybe a villain or two for them to fight. Plus, sooner or later I'm gonna have to tackle a school scene too, so wish me luck. Also, eventually, we'll see Mindy and Dave on patrol action and explore more of the creepy goodness that is Natalie. Reviews would be nice. Y'know, even though I don't really deserve it for allowing the story to stay so long without an update. But I also really want to thank everyone who reviewed the story so far. I'm really glad that you guys liked it. _


	4. Chapter 4

_Yes! I am 'blocked' no more! The story can continue unhindered! This particular chapter hints toward some future developments that I'm gonna be working toward. I totally am going to try to take this story to places that you guys can't even imagine. I also will also soon bring a villain or villains, into the mix, once I can think of really good ones. I really tried to get into the head of nine year old with the Natalie POV so I could write how she would think and talk. Hope it's satisfactory though 'cause it's the best I could do. On a slightly unrelated note, someone told me that he could picture someone who looks like Chloe Grace Moretz growing up to look like Sarah Chalke from Scrubs! Do you guys see it? I swear to God, I do not. _

_**Chapter four**_

**[Natalie's POV]**

I wonder where the whole of Sunday went? Me and Mom went out to the mall, and it was okay—I know that she did it to make up for my tummy ache on Saturday—but I didn't even get to do anything really 'fun'. And now I'm in a car on my way to boring school on a boring Monday. That is _so_ fucked.

"Did you do your homework, Nat?" Dad asked me out of the blue. I thought he was still talking to Rose, who was sitting up front with him.

"Kind of" I lied, wanting to tease him and see how he would act if he thought I really didn't.

"Natalie, tell the truth. Did you do it or not?"

"Oh, she did it, alright. I bet she even brought an apple for her teacher to go along with it" Damon said smiling, happy that he ratted me out. As I pouted, I started to hit him for fucking up my prank. "Ow, ow, ow, ow" he said over and over, as I kept hitting his shoulder with my fists. "Quit it back there, guys. Or do you want me to turn this car around?"

"Yes!" we all said together, making Dad laugh. In no time, he pulled over in front of my school, giving me a moment to say bye to everyone. "Bye Dad. Bye Rose" I told them, trying to sound happy as I did. Looking over at Damon, I stuck my tongue out at him and he did it right back. By the time they left, I was already feeling my hate for school come back. It wasn't that I didn't have friends or that it wasn't normal in every way. That's what the problem was; it was so normal and so…boring. As I joined the other kids going into the school building, my mind was somewhere else as I thought of a bajillion and one things that I would rather be doing. And a particular thing that I would love to be doing, that might involve sharp pointy objects.

Sometime later, I was walking up to my locker with the hopes of going to class without talking to anyone. But as I was getting out my Social studies textbook, my friend Laura basically jumped on me, excited about something. "Oh my God, Nat, you're never gonna guess what!...Go on! Guess!"

"Umm…Kenneth Kyle finally talked to you?" I joked.

"Shut up! You know that he likes me. Just…give him time to admit it"

With my books in my hand, I started to make my way to class. "So what did you want to tell me?"

"My mom says that she might take me to see the Jonas Brothers when they come to New York this weekend!" I had to cover my ears a little because her voice got really high and she ended her sentence with a tiny shriek. I sighed when I saw that everyone around us was looking our way as if we were fucking crazy. '_Fucking pretenders_' I thought. '_I bet they like the Jonas Brothers too_'.

Staring at everyone with a 'so-what' look, Laura was satisfied when no one challenged her freak-out moment. But knowing how school is, I knew that some kids would use that as a topic for their conversation at lunch—saying that me and Laura were weird. "Laura, your mom said the same thing about Hannah Montana but we both know what happened. You got grounded just in time for it" Laura groaned as she remembered the tragic events of '09, keeping in step with me as she kept walking me toward my class. She didn't seem to care if she was late for hers. "Seriously, I'm sure you're mom will find some way to stop you from going to the Jonas thing too"

"Why the hell aren't you excited, Nat? I mean, you love Jonas!"

"There's no need to swear, Laura" I laughed, pretending that _I_ didn't really swear like all holy fucking hell. The thing was—I did like Jonas. Hello? I'm nine and a half. They're a really sweet band; talented _and_ good-looking. What's not to like? But I wasn't one of those fainting, screaming girls that mom says are gonna grow up to be 'whore-tastic'. So even though I wasn't really crazy about Hannah Montana or Miley Cyrus or whoever she was, I would love to go see Jonas live, but I had other stuff that was bugging me.

"Seriously, Nat, you can tell me what's bothering you…y'know, if anything is"

I sighed for, like, the tenth time since I got to school. '_Well, Laura, the truth is…my Dad, Mom, brother and sister are all crimefighters. Superheroes, actually. And my parents gave their old superhero mantles to Damon and Rose when they thought they were ready. So, everyone in my family is doing the vigilante thing…except me. I mean, I haven't even killed anyone yet. It's so frustrating. I'm aching to prove myself and they don't even think I'm ready yet. But I know for a fact that my Mom was doing stuff at my age that I couldn't even imagine doing. And I'm, like, supposed to get the Hit Girl role in a couple of years. Even I'm starting to think that I'm not ready. Maybe I'll never be._'

"…So, you gonna tell me or not?" she asked impatiently.

Okay, so I couldn't say that to her but I really needed to tell somebody. Maybe I would tell Rose about it once we were home. I stopped in front of the door to my class, that Mrs. Shepherd—the Social studies teacher—had just entered. "Laura…go to math class" I ordered.

She finally seemed to give up. "Fine. Have it your way. Bottle it up and let it turn to rage that'll eventually make you become a murderer" she said, walking away in a huff.

"Well, hopefully a murderer on the side of Justice" I said quietly, as I went in to the mind numbingly boring class. Mrs. Shepherd then went on to start talking about a Boston Tea thingy, and instead of paying attention, I totally spaced out, with one thought going through my head.

'_I really have to kill someone_'

**[Rose's POV]**

I really want to kill someone.

I sat up in math, thinking—daydreaming, if you prefer—about whacking someone. It was on my mind ever since I accidentally drifted off during first period, and my mind went back to Saturday night. Fucking murder withdrawal, that's what was happening to me. It didn't even occur to me to be stunned that I was perfectly comfortable when I was in a shower of blood, wielding the instruments of death. I was jones-ing for some patrol, some action, for anything, and as I watched Mr. Zelenski bore me to death with fucking Calculus, I seriously considered killing him for a minute.

"And so the limit of our particular function as x approaches -3 is…no one? No one, at all?" he asked, smirking as everyone tried to avoid looking directly at him. As if in answer to our collective prayers, the bell for lunch suddenly went off, causing everyone to sigh with relief. "Yeah, yeah, saved by the bell and all that" Mr. Zelenski joked, clearly finding our attitude toward math amusing. "I'm gonna be the one laughing though when you guys realize how much you need this" he predicted, as the whole class rushed to get out as far away as possible from the prospect of acquiring knowledge. I got up to go and as I was walking out, some guy fucking bumped into my arm that had been shot. Slowing down while wincing, I quickly shook it off and prayed to God that I wouldn't start bleeding and ruin the gauze. Thank God for long sleeve shirts.

Minutes later, I was putting my books back into my locker when I saw Jeffery Turner from my History class getting bullied by jocks, for the umpteenth time. I swear, it was so cliché, like it was out of a fucking coming-of-age movie. One of them had shoved him against the lockers and was getting in his face about something. I continued to watch transfixed, as they ruffed him up a bit and walked off, feeling triumphant that they had just beat up a nerd. I would love to see how they would fare against a rabid drug dealer wielding a semi, who's high on his own shit.

As he got his shit together and tried to smooth over his clothing, people nearby who had seen the ordeal quietly laughed at him and shook their heads. He was taking off his glasses to clean them when my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to walk over to him and finally ask him about his bully problem that had been going on way too fucking long. "Hey" I simply said.

Realizing that I was talking to him, and after such an embarrassing moment, he got really self-conscious all of a sudden and started to act confused. "Oh, y-yeah. Hello. I mean, hey. Hi. Who says hello anymore, rig—?"

"Why let them do that?" I interjected, not understanding how he couldn't fucking fight back. Of course, my lack of comprehension was partly because _I_ could kick ass; it made me forget sometimes that not everyone else could do what I do.

He got uncomfortable when I asked the question and turned red for a while, staring at the floor. "I don't know. Because they _can_, I guess" he said as he raised his head up seconds later to look at me.

"You don't ever think of fighting back?" I asked, my mind thinking of all the wonderful, horrible things that _I_ would do to them, if in his position.

"Even if I could, I probably wouldn't" he admitted, after briefly contemplating it.

"Why not?"

"Just because you can beat someone up, doesn't mean you should" he told me, with a conviction that made me understand that he really believed that.

"My mom wouldn't think that" I said to myself quietly, smirking as my attention to him faltered for a second and I gazed into the distance, thinking of my family. "How very Peter Parker of you" I commented, smiling as I turned back to him. He grinned when he heard my allusion that compared him to Spider-Man's alter ego. "Peter Parker, huh? That may be the best compliment that I've gotten since I got into high school" he admitted to me, smiling all the while. "I'm Jeffery by the way" he added after staring at me a bit.

"I actually know who you are. We have History classes together. We've just never spoken" I explained.

He nodded in understanding and I could tell that the reason he had concocted in his head for us never talking had to involve some sort of false inapproachability on my part. "That makes sense. Why would any of the pretty girls want to talk to me?" he figured, confirming my theory. Although, the self deprecation was oddly cute on him.

"Hah! Me, pretty? Good one." I commended, feigning insecurity to make him feel comfortable. He was a really nice guy, apparently. Couldn't believe I'd never met him. "So, your name is…?" he asked, sounding a lot more confident. I started walking to the cafeteria and he fell in step beside me, trying to be persistent. I stole a couple of glances in his direction, and I could not help smiling at how he looked expectantly at me. "What if I told you it was Mary Jane?" I joked, wanting to see his reaction. "Wait a minute—really?" he asked soberly, disbelief written all over his face. It was then that I actually laughed out loud. "No, actually it's Rose" I said, giving up the ruse.

"Wow. That would've been…shocking, needless to say. But Rose is just as awesome" he said, complimenting me.

"Hmmm. You're good at this flirting stuff"

"Okay, now that's just a lie. I'm awful at it. This might be the first time I've ever flirted in my life" he told me as we entered the cafeteria, stepping into the buzzing activity. I waved at my three closest friends who were sitting at a table not far from where I was. They were actually pretty ordinary girls when compared to any standard. Joanie was your average perky girl who wanted to join every club there was so she could use it to get to the college of her choice; Linda was the regular Facebook obsessed girl who went rabid at the mere mention of words like singing, American idol and other shit like that, optimistic that she would someday get to show everyone how talented she was; and there was Beth, the Goth who wasn't that into goth and was the calmest and most down to earth person I knew. _And there's me_, I thought, _the skillfully violent, mass murdering vigilante who liked classic rock_.

Jeffery saw that I spotted my friends and began stammering through an invite to hang out that I stopped as soon as I could. "I would definitely love to hang sometime" I simply told him after interrupting him. "Great. See ya around" he croaked out nervously, leaving the cafeteria, '_to go study_' as he had told me. During lunch period? Sounded strange but hey, who am I to judge? I fucking decapitate people with knives. Which have admittedly gotten a bit rusty so even if they could somehow survive the beheading, they'd probably get tetanus.

"See ya around, Parker" I responded and that made him turn around one last time to smile at me before finally departing. I sighed as I made my way to my friends' table, knowing they were going to ask questions and make fun of me for having a '_boyfriend_'. Bunch a crazy bitches, that's for sure. I'd much rather be killing someone.

**[Mindy's POV]**

After housework and all that crap, by late afternoon I was pretty exhausted. I staggered out of the kitchen, intending to go to the living room to see what Dave was up to. He had just come back from picking up Natalie—our other two could find their own way back—and now he was looking over Rose's status report from Saturday night's patrol.

We only wrote status reports when the mission didn't go as expected or when we fucked them up. It wasn't formal or some shit; it was just a detailed description of the events that went down. Normally Dave and I read it but today I was too fucking beat to even want to, so I let him start without me.

Passing by the stairs, I stopped to yell for Natalie. "Natalie! Get your butt down and come eat your sandwich!"

"Okay! Coming!" she yelled back but I knew she was gonna take a whole thirty minutes to do that. Walking to the couch and plopping myself beside Dave, I rested my head on his shoulder as he looked at Rose's written account. "So…does the hero ever find love in this story?" I joked. Stupid Dave ignored the quip 'cause his brow was furrowed meaning he was deep in thought. Fucking typical. "Everything went routinely" he suddenly said out loud. "They 'dispatched' the bad guys, Mr Immortal arrived and then proceeded to inspect the contents of both cases. That's when things got weird" For some reason that even I didn't know, I had somehow started to kiss his neck. I'm like a fucking teenager with the 'whoremones' when I'm around him. Honest to God, I have no idea how the fuck it happened but he didn't mind, so I kept at it. "That's…when they…found…the bomb?" I asked between kisses.

"It's your standard suitcase bomb; type 76 IED. But why? The Russians were trying to cool down their feud with the Italians. According to intel, it was supposed to be _one_ suitcase full of money and the other full of samples of some of the good shit that the Italians were going to start 'sharing' with the Russians." My inexplicable horniness made it even harder to keep concentrating on what he was saying.

My hand was now softly rubbing his inner thigh. "Maybe…someone doesn't want…the fucking peace…to manifest" I suggested, purposely putting emphasis on the word 'fucking'. Dave continued analyzing the details, talking out loud but mostly to himself. He knew I would be too distracted to listen. "Two suitcases; black and grey. Since the grey is what the Italians have consistently used in the past, and the bomb was found in that one, it's safe to assume that someone in the Italian circle was trying to keep the feud going. Or were they…all in on it?" The slight falter in his last sentence informed me that I was finally making an 'impression' on him. He shifted his gaze from the paper he was holding and shut his eyes. "Mindy, honey, please. I can't think straight with you trying to give me hickey's and with your hand down there" he told me.

I pulled back to look at him but let my hand do what it had been doing. I was grinning when I looked into his eyes. "You want me to stop?" I asked teasingly. "If it's not too much trouble" he answered, fighting back a smile. I knew then that I fucking had him.

"C'mon, I wanna fool around a little" I encouraged, this time going for his lips with the kisses. "Y'know, make some of the '_fancy that comes before the fuck_'."

"You do know that we have a nine year old daughter who could come down any minute and see us, thereby scarring herself for life?" he reminded me after stopping the smooches momentarily.

"She'll get over it" I joked, continuing them. "I didn't even get to _see_ my mom. What I wouldn't give to have seen her and my Dad going at it."

"Wow. You're really sick" Dave said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"You've known me since I was eleven. Have I been any different?" Smiling at that, he finally recaptured my lips in a kiss that left me virtually breathless. It was so fucking good. "Jesus" I breathed, when we took a break seconds later, "I think I'm obsessed with you, Mr. Lizewski"

"I don't think I've got a problem with that" Dave said amusedly, in a low tone. "Maybe then people will believe that a girl as hot as you is not an impossibility for guys like me"

The bastard sure knew how to push my buttons, as well as soothe my e-fucking-normously huge ego. "Dumbass" I said, smiling as I leaned in to kiss him again. Not even five fucking seconds later, the front door opened and I heard my two older children come in, making me grin into the kiss when I heard them express their disgust. "Eeewww! C'mon guys, that's what rooms are for! Don't scar us!" Damon whined out.

"Seriously, that is the grossest thing that I have ever seen" Rose contributed. By now Dave and I had stopped the 'embracing' and were looking at our kids, trying not to fucking laugh out loud at their mock disgust. "Shut up!" we both said at the same time, finally giving in to the laughter. "How was school?" I asked.

"I think a guy fell in love with me today" Rose deadpanned, as Damon followed quickly with, "I think every girl in my school hates me and it's all you guys fault"

"Sounds about right. What you want for dinner?"

"Food" Rose said as she and Damon started to make their way towards the stairs. I swear, all my children are smart asses. "Hold on! Come back!"Dave called out to them and seconds later, they had come back into the living room and onto the other couch. "Mindy, sweetie, tell them" Dave said to me, obviously wanting me to relay to them that they messed up with the whole secret patrol thing.

"Oh yeah! I heard you fucking de-penised a guy, sweetie. Good for you" I said, fighting a smile as I congratulated Rose just so I could frustrate Dave. He seriously worries too fucking much. "I only did it cuz he shot me" Rose explained, trying not to smile too. I arched an eyebrow at her as I considered her reason. I think she would've fucking done it regardless.

"Yeah, well, I came home especially to hear Mom and Rose talk about dismembered crotches. Isn't this fun?" Damon said, not even bothering to hide his sarcasm which made Rose cover her mouth, afraid that she would start laughing uncontrollably.

"Look, the truth is: you're grounded. No patrol, no nothing. For a week" Dave said, almost immediately countered by them as they voiced their disagreement with his decision. "C'mon! All we did was go kill a couple of people, like how it used to be" Rose complained.

"What do you mean?" Dave asked, curious as to what Rose was on about.

"Y'know, now we're mostly 'precisiony' and 'strikeforcey', hitting the bad guys in their big leagues but…you have to admit partially ignoring the everyday guy who's getting mugged, the little girl who's about to be raped or the innocent person about to be fucking murdered by gang bangers. We've kinda lost sight, is all I'm saying"

Rose's tone was anything but accusatory and in actual fact, I could tell that she was just pointing out a fact. But looking at Dave, I could tell that her speech really got through to the fucking insane teen in him that spurned him to be Kick Ass all those years ago. And I could tell that he was feeling fucking guilty about it. Of course, Damon and Rose couldn't really tell but I had been with the man for over two decades. I knew him so damn well, I could tell from his expression when he wanted to make a fucking expression.

Luckily, he didn't miss a beat. "Uh huh, that all may be true, but you're still grounded" Groaning in vain, they both got up and sauntered off, mumbling their way up the stairs.

When they were gone, Dave sighed and leaned back in the couch, closing his eyes as he rubbed his temples. "…She's right, isn't she?"

"Aww, sweetie, don't pay attention to Rose. She's crazy" I joked, spinning a finger round my temple and making the crazy gesture. "Besides, what we're doing now is great. There's no doubt about that."

"…Yeah, I guess. But that doesn't mean we should ignore the small stuff" he said. I almost laughed out loud at how adorable he looked in his half pouting, half contemplative pose. It was some seriously funny shit. "We don't ignore it completely. We're just focusing on the big picture for now. If we can stop the drug dealing pussies from making the trade of the century with each other, then we reduce the amount of drugs flooding the streets. Less drugs equals less high-as-fuck bitches breaking the fucking law. All the small timers that we usually introduce the wrath of God to, are almost always zonked out. We cut their supply of 'courage' off, maybe they don't commit as many crimes"

He was quiet for a while, and then sighed, pulling me closer. "You're right. But it doesn't mean I still don't feel bad about it" he admitted, squeezing my shoulder as I lay my head on his chest. "You know I love that you do. If I recall correctly, it was what made me notice you in the first place all those years ago" I told him, remembering so very clearly, the day that my Dad and I saw Kick-Ass on T.V stopping a beating on the street. Back then, I could see that he wasn't trained at all, but there was something about his passion, his drive to dump his shit on the criminal cunts despite his inexperience, that wowed me.

"Y'know what? We should patrol tonight. Just to get your mind off things" I suggested, feeling that he might still be in a funk over Rose's talk. "Just me and you"

"Really? What about the kids?" he asked, even though you could hear the anticipation and excitement in his voice. I tilted my head up so I could look at him and we locked eyes. "They can take care of themselves, dumbass. Stop babying them"

"…Okay, I'll try. But I can't promise anything. I mean, they are my kids" he said, pushing strands of my hair behind my ear. Yes, it was the kind of thing that got me going but there was no time for that now. "Great. Then, 'tonight's the night'. Now, if you'll excuse me" I said, getting up and going toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"To kill Natalie. She told me to make a sandwich for her but I bet she's still in her room playing with that knife of hers. Natalie!" I shouted, as I trudged up the steps, almost certain that I could hear Dave laugh at me. Hmmm. Maybe after I dragged our youngest daughter down and forced the sandwich down her throat, I would kill him too. Maybe.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_There! Finally done. Next chapter: Dave and Mindy don their costumes and make a mockery of the criminal underworld! Also, shenanigans ensue when the kids are left at home alone. It's definitely going to be along the lines of epic. One question, though: Does anyone have any ideas for Mindy's alter ego's name? It has to be badass and I feel that I would not do it justice if I didn't ask for suggestions._


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